Black Chronicles: Sorcerer's Stone
by hcomet28
Summary: Mira Black lost her family as a baby. Her mother died and her father was sent to Azkaban prison. Despite this, she now has a great life with her godfather. Especially, since she's about to start Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, where she meets her best friends Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. Let the adventures begin. (Reposting from old account)
1. The Letter

"Mira!... Mira!"

I loved my godfather, he was my best friend and the kindest person I knew, but he was a morning person, which automatically deserved murder in my book.

I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my head into the pillows, but nothing could block his shouts.

"Mira Black!"

I sighed and opened my eyes begrudgingly.

"What?!" I shouted, not moving.

"Come downstairs, please,"

"No," I yelled, flipping onto my stomach and burrowing my head underneath my pillow.

"Why not?" Though my godfather tried to sound upset, I could hear a smile in his voice.

I lifted my head out from under my pillow, scowling. "I understand that you're a morning person, and that's just fine, Remus. But there happen to be some people in this house that are deeply in love with sleep."

"Alright," Remus said, still way to peppy for a Saturday morning. "I guess I'll just toss this Hogwarts letter."

Suddenly, I was wide awake. "Don't you dare!" I sprang up, jumped out of bed, and ran downstairs.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Remus was standing in front of me, holding an envelope made of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink, with no stamp, indicating that the letter had arrived by owl post.

Remus was smirking, holding the letter out to me. I grabbed it and turned it over excitedly, noticing the purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake all surrounding a large H.

I fervently ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter.

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 _Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Miss Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

 _Minerva McGonagall_

Deputy Headmistress

I looked back up at Remus, beaming.

He smiled at me knowingly and said, "We'll go to Diagon Alley this afternoon,"


	2. Diagon Alley

p data-p-id="971571bda181834bc18a0ac4546852d9"I'd only been to London a few times, but I'd never actually been to Diagon Alley. Once I'd wolfed down breakfast and wrote out long letter to Dora, we took off for the famous Leaky Cauldron - a tiny, grubby-looking pub./p  
p data-p-id="b434f006873414163c41365795cc772f"Dora was a slightly distant cousin and the only friend I had besides Remus. I'd spent some time with her family, the Tonks, when I was a child. Once Remus had taken me in, I'd been able to keep in touch with her more easily and gotten to visit every summer. /p  
p data-p-id="a4658773bcbc13eb68eeac7514240c43"Her actual name was Nymphadora, but if you ever called her that, she'd hex you into oblivion. Dora was seven and a half years older than me. She'd recently graduated from Hogwarts herself, and was off training to become an Auror. I'd always been extremely jealous of her while she was at Hogwarts, but she tided me over with her letters telling me stories about the castle, the professors, and everything that was happening in the wizarding world that Remus didn't want me to know. I loved each and every tale she told me, especially the one about the famous Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived./p  
p data-p-id="2be520d8a899ccade486223608e07cc7"It went like this: over a decade ago, the darkest wizard of the ages, who called himself Lord Voldemort, was all-powerful, killing families left and right. Voldemort started to gather some followers. Anyone who stood up to him ended up dead, like Harry's parents James and Lily Potter and not a single person lived once Voldemort decided to kill them. Except for Harry. Dora says he has one recognizable feature - a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, resulting from Voldemort's curse./p  
p data-p-id="506c072b24b1929121a98265f178f0bb"I'd asked Dora what happened to Voldemort - or as everyone in the wizarding world called him, because they were still too afraid to say the name, You-Know-Who. After that Halloween night when he went after Harry, he just disappeared; a lot of people say he died. Dora said she wants to believe that, but finds it too simple. /p  
p data-p-id="8ff2d61c5906c216805e30e94a005acc"Anyway, back to the Leaky Cauldron. You wouldn't notice it if you didn't know it was there. The people hurrying by didn't even glance at it, it was as if they couldn't see the pub at all. Which was just how it was, it was invisible to Muggle eyes./p  
p data-p-id="9d95b4af9ca73d206b8b48599cd760b7"We silently walked through the Leaky Cauldron, out into the small, walled courtyard behind the building, where there was nothing but a trash can and some weeds./p  
p data-p-id="eee540f1537ce8ecc5e78c897926498d"Remus pulled out his wand and tapped the wall three times with the point./p  
p data-p-id="3857095de19b1bf209fec3af27988635"The brick it touched quivered and in the middle a small hole appeared, growing wider and wider. A second later we were left facing an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight./p  
p data-p-id="b54ddbe7598141a7719ea7822383633e""Welcome to Diagon Alley, Mira!" Remus said, grinning at my obvious amazement. We stepped through the archway and I looked over my shoulder to see the bricks fold back into a solid wall./p  
p data-p-id="aee30cc5ecd54bfc37f9aa92105b66b5"The sun was shining brightly over a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-stirring - Collapsible, said the sign hanging over them./p  
p data-p-id="e92f3b5ed8da19645dd37749936d313e""Slow down, Mira," Remus said. "Our first stop is Gringotts, to get your money."/p  
p data-p-id="d3b190cb2c0d2f63701221032928b2a2""emMy/em money?" I asked quizzically./p  
p data-p-id="e4ddfd07326b478dee4811a974caa492""Yeah, I've been putting aside some for you these last few years. And, of course, the McKinnon family vault is yours." Remus explained./p  
p data-p-id="f38512a64fae2b1ff2d9db477bdbb372"Soon this new information was set aside while I took in sights. I wish I had another pair of eyes so I could really take it all in./p  
p data-p-id="652c669d731ee6e0fde7d54afc60303f"A loud hooting came from a dark shop saying Eyelops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several children around my age had their noses pressed against a window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. "It's a world-class racing broom," I heard one of them say./p  
p data-p-id="ebd8c89fb4d34076b07b61b4172c193e""It's the new Nimbus Two Thousand. It's the fastest model yet." Another exclaimed./p  
p data-p-id="42a898d5970703cadbb0f732b30d11c5"There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange-looking silver instruments, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon.../p  
p data-p-id="f6ebd93c05315cda0c59f17bc95c9823"Just then we reached a snowy white marble building that towered over the other shops. Standing beside its bronze doors, wearing a scarlet and gold uniform was.../p  
p data-p-id="e46e3e6c0a7ce00c1bcb9e387450c6d8""A goblin," I said quietly as we walked up the stone steps toward him. I had never seen one before, at least not outside of books. The goblin was about four feet tall, a head shorter than myself. He had a pointed beard and very long fingers and feet. He bowed to us as we walked inside. Now we were facing a second pair of doors - silver - with words engraved on them./p  
p data-p-id="cfa7142930a9117da3cf648cfc9252d1"emEnter, stranger, but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed,/em/p  
p data-p-id="697361c94ae92fe505dbd980e6a88779"emFor those who take, but do not earn, must pay most dearly in their turn./em/p  
p data-p-id="94190757d11110874e38206fc0facef1"emSo if you seek beneath our floors a treasure that was never yours, /em/p  
p data-p-id="4680855754f8b096b5c4b8aa0a56e11c"emThief, you have been warned, beware of finding more than treasure there./em/p  
p data-p-id="136641019cfae1e6bacda0fa0c1fde40"A pair of goblins bowed us through these doors. In the next room - a vast marble hall - there had to be a hundred more goblins that were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were numerous doors leading off the hall, and even more goblins were showing people in and out of them./p  
p data-p-id="6941f9a4fcdc53c549585077e780d984"Remus and I made for the counter./p  
p data-p-id="4fc04b55f2e7ac77a472260a95fcd430""Morning," Remus said to a free goblin. "We need to take some money from Mira Black's vault."/p  
p data-p-id="2267818e3117e2f978359d913678e7ac""You have her key, sir?"/p  
p data-p-id="f21f3869da2c47bed8c6cdf48795ed4e"Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny golden key./p  
p data-p-id="697448056a048f97197620def6ef2ab2"The goblin looked at it closely before saying, "That seems to be in order,"/p  
p data-p-id="186d13323f9b5a68591e2a874c8cbe39"We followed the goblin toward one of the doors leading off the hall. He held the door open for us. We stepped into a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. The goblin whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward us. We climbed in and were off./p  
p data-p-id="9c9c86a167c70c6bf07701f0b637c99f"At first we just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. It was impossible to remember - left, right, right, left, middle fork, left, right, left. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because the goblin wasn't steering./p  
p data-p-id="53398addc50236cc53d3d3772019ff55""Vault 328," the goblin announced, unlocking the door. Once I saw the inside, I gasped. Inside were an insurmountable number of gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts./p  
p data-p-id="c9e8a66aca39e9532ac2e70e3d7d963d"Remus helped me pile some of the money into a bag./p  
p data-p-id="d699778fcaaee68a677d9a531eb9dd80"One wild cart ride later we stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts./p  
p data-p-id="f21b17f18b0e0f30a07521a4cd21a27e"Now that I had my money, I could shop for all my school supplies. I dug my list out of my pocket and read it over again./p  
p data-p-id="d41d8cd98f00b204e9800998ecf8427e" /p  
p data-p-id="4c0aee5192e5f9ff905cc9d313697b26"emHogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry/em/p  
p data-p-id="891f35a29c3d51d02ffd42dd6dcc69b2"UNIFORM/p  
p data-p-id="89f77efb51deb2b508256b690b00b203"First-year students will require:/p  
p data-p-id="6cb0dbfc9e916fc53dd21aeda880d059"1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)/p  
p data-p-id="98356954a759509bf5d94e81d311c19e"2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear/p  
p data-p-id="ce5e6f6e16bd0bace438e2bd43049762"3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)/p  
p data-p-id="b5abe95c0b321f694946dd549b53ce00"4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)/p  
p data-p-id="94d4301b6ec4ffe9e9dfae45d321f94e"Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags/p  
p data-p-id="360771a1cd4ac54a62347fe79b443429"COURSE BOOKS/p  
p data-p-id="821c604152156392d8e237c76656956a"All students should have a copy of each of the following:/p  
p data-p-id="7338f7371038f371bceaa336faa1ea15"emThe Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)/em by Miranda Goshawk/p  
p data-p-id="7fbbcf22937d5a4657280a04f0c68f99"emA History of Magic /emby Bathilda Bagshot/p  
p data-p-id="01a67bbed8ec7457cc8610df24eebbc5"emMagical Theory /emby Adalbert Waffling/p  
p data-p-id="e1a4f792f7f7fd3d1d595e3757fa717a"emA Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration /emby Emeric Switch/p  
p data-p-id="3aad6d7101e0b63401bfa66e3aa625e9"emOne Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi/em by Phyllida Spore/p  
p data-p-id="da4c41ec0c6f16aaa40cb9e4c5cbbc67"emMagical Drafts and Potions /emby Arsenius Jigger/p  
p data-p-id="f40d2a621a28535407b8a705a0651df5"emFantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them/em by Newt Scamander/p  
p data-p-id="6d0194f109fdcf2f7bc77400e7c7978e"emThe Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection/em by Quentin Trimble/p  
p data-p-id="001de718f770db7cd4cff7c1cdc31fb3"OTHER EQUIPTMENT/p  
p data-p-id="ee17e3e9b476de1a2b8d70ffb746e8c7"1 wand/p  
p data-p-id="668099e3529e19d3883aff419dedba44"1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)/p  
p data-p-id="50e7ce3389898a526c8f9aa48f8200af"1 set glass or crystal phials/p  
p data-p-id="ff5cbfc85c3f3239079c10ad93ed4008"1 telescope/p  
p data-p-id="1b0b521a0b12dd9266c01ba78ad1086c"1 set brass scales/p  
p data-p-id="ee640017a8e0a8c2c3498edbe91e8e1a"Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad/p  
p data-p-id="20de5f715108518980bb73f893a77ba2"PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS/p  
p data-p-id="26478db11a74b3c8675f463fee30cba7" /p  
p data-p-id="073e1a7cb89fbd43b6fab2b408fbe212"I was a bit put out at that last part; I loved flying and coldn't wait to try out for my House team./p  
p data-p-id="41f28de74c9b8724498b123f9acc5bb5"Remus gave me a stern look. "If I let you get some of your things on your own, will you behave yourself?"/p  
p data-p-id="a7dfe6339abeb33f0370c43332ede7b2""Why, Remus, I'm offended you would even ask," He continued to stare at me with a hard look. I sighed. "I promise I'll behave," I recited./p  
p data-p-id="9a657882693ef13dc2b22a7b33696528""Good. Then why don't you go get your uniform, while I go to the apothecary and get your scales and such. I'll come and get you once I'm done there. Then we can go to Flourish and Blotts and Ollivanders together."/p  
p data-p-id="bd2230d655fb14a5583cb2e2f6930823""Sounds good to me," I said./p 


	3. Ollivanders

I entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions alone. I was a bit nervous, but I wasn't in the store very long. Getting fitted for robes wasn't as long a process as you'd think.

Once I left the shop, I found Remus leaving the apothecary. After he spent a few minutes berating me for not waiting for him - to which I only rolled my eyes - we made our way to Flourish and Blotts, the book shop. The shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of strange symbols; and a few books with nothing in them at all. I was in heaven; reading was the only thing I did, besides Quidditch.

Ten minutes later Remus and I walked over to Ollivanders wand shop. It was narrow and shabby, with peeling gold letters over the door that read: _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._

A tinkling bell rang as we stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Remus stood by to wait.

I felt as through I had entered a very strict library. I looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of my neck prickled. It was like I could taste the magic inside this place.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice, causing me to jump.

An old man was standing before us, his wide, pale eyes shinning like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," I whispered.

"Ah, yes," said the man. "I thought I might be seeing you soon... Mira Black. You look so much like your mother. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Eleven and two-third inches long, pliable, made of elm. Nice wand for transfiguration work. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Fifteen inches. More powerful. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

At that moment, Mr. Ollivander spotted Remus behind me.

"Remus Lupin! How nice to see you again... Cypress, ten and a quarter, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Remus confirmed warmly.

"Well, now - Miss Black. Let me see." Mr. Ollivander pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"My right," I said.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured me from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round my head. As he measured he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magic substance, Miss Black. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And, of course, you will never get such good results with another witch or wizard's wand."

I suddenly realized that the tape measurer, which was measuring between my nostrils, was doing so on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measurer crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Miss Black. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

I took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of my hand almost immediately. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite springy. Try -"

I tried - but I had barely risen the wand when it, too, was snatched away by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no - here, oak and unicorn hair, ten and a quarter inches, nice and supple."

I took the wand and right away felt a sudden warmth in my fingers. I raised the wand above my head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls. Remus clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good."

I paied Mr. Ollivander seven gold Galleons for the wand, and he bowed us from his shop.

Back on the street, Remus silently led me into Eyelops Owl Emporium, despite my many questions. He stood me outside the shop and told me to stay put. He entered the shop, and I wanted to follow him, but some part of my brain told me to listen to Remus this time.

He emerged from the shop several minutes later with his purchase. He handed me the silver cage, which held a beautiful barn owl. Smiling, Remus told me, "You're going to need one of your own to write me and the Tonks about everything that happens this year."

I smiled hugely and we all left Diagon Alley.

I couldn't wait for September 1st.


	4. The Journey

I woke up at six o'clock on September 1st. It was really early for me, but I was too excited, not to mention nervous. In a few hours, we'd be heading to the train station where I'd board the Hogwarts Express.

I pulled on my jeans and my favorite purple sweater. I didn't really feel like walking through the station in my robes; I'd change on the train. While I waited for Remus to get up I checked (and triple checked) my trunk, comparing it to my supplies list, making sure I had everything.

My eyes landed on the silver cage in the corner of my room, which housed my new owl who I'd decided to name Orion. I'd always loved the stars and Orion was one of my favorite constellations.

After breakfast and the struggle of maneuvering my trunk into the car, we pilled in and drove to King's Cross Station, where we arrived at quarter after ten. Remus heaved my trunk onto a trolley and I wheeled it through the station, beaming the whole way.

We stopped in front of platforms nine and ten and I pulled out my ticket. It declared that the Hogwarts Express was located on Platform 9 ¾. How could a platform be a fraction? Dora had neglected to mention this in all her Hogwarts stories. I looked between the big plastic nine over one platform and the big plastic ten over the one next to it. In the middle lay... nothing. "What?"

"Don't worry, Mira," Remus said. "Just walk straight at the barrier between the platforms." My eyes widened; that sounded like it hurt. "No need to be scared; it is magic after all." Apparently, my weak smile didn't convince him. "How 'bout we do it together?"

"Okay," I said, nodding.

Remus put one hand on my trolley and the other around my shoulders. Together, we pushed my trolley forward and started for the barrier.

I half-expected to hit the wall, but no such thing happened.

We went right through the wall and when we emerged on the other side I saw a scarlet steam engine waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said: Hogwarts Express Platform 9 ¾.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Remus asked, but he sounded kind of far away; my excitement was clouding my senses.

Smoke from the engine drifted overhead, above the chattering crowd while cats wound between peoples' legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled way, as if they just hated being in their cages. I could also make out the scraping sound of trunks above the loud babble of voices.

After Remus helped get my trunk loaded onto the train, we stepped back onto the platform to say our goodbyes.

"Well, this is it," Remus said. He sounded nonchalant, but I could see the sadness in his eyes.

"Don't worry, Remus. I'll be fine." I said comfortingly.

"I know," he said, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Remus... need... air..." I said in a choked voice. He let go immediately, only to cup my face between his hands and look me in the eye.

"Now, you try not to get into too much trouble. And make sure to write as soon as you're settled, alright?" he demanded.

"Yes, sir,"

"Have a good time, Mira. I'll miss you."

I smiled at him. "I'll miss you, too,"

After another hug and a kiss to my forehead, I boarded the train. After walking down the train about halfway, I came across a compartment with a single boy in it. I poked my head in and asked him, "Anyone sitting there?'

The boy shook his head and I sat down across from him, next to the window.

I was just about to introduce myself when the door of the compartment slid open and a redheaded, freckle-faced boy came in. "Excuse me, do you mind?" he asked, pointing to the seat opposite myself, a few inches away from the dark-haired boy. "Everywhere else is full."

"Not at all," said the boy.

"Go ahead," I said, gesturing to the seat.

The redhead sat down and introduced himself right away. "I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter." the other boy replied.

My eyes bulged, but I didn't say anything, mostly because I wouldn't know what to say, but also because Ron beat me to it.

"So... so it's true," he stuttered incredulously. "I mean, do you really have the... the..."

"The what?" Harry asked, genuinely confused.

"The scar," Ron whispered, as if he spoke too loudly he might be stuck down with lightning.

"Oh," Harry said. He lifted his hair to reveal a thin lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"Wicked," Ron said, clearly amazed.

I rolled my eyes, which seemed to catch Ron's attention. He looked over at me and curiously asked, "And you are?"

"Mira Black," I answered. Immediately, I recognized the look of astonishment on Ron's face as I told him my name. Before he could comment I said, "And yes, I know how horrible the Black family has been. A bunch of evil Slytherins and followers of You-Know-Who. But just so you know, I wasn't raised like them, especially since I never knew my parents. I also despise Slytherin house. If any of that makes you feel any better."

After a moment of silence - which I spent worrying I'd said too much; I can never seem to keep my mouth shut it seems - Ron smiled reassuringly at me.

I smiled back and decided to fill in the silence. "So are all your family wizards?" I asked Ron.

"Er - yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So, you must know loads of magic already," Harry realized.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," Ron said to Harry. "What are they like?"

"Horrible - well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers." Harry said.

"Five," said Ron, sounding gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was Quidditch captain. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. "This is Scabbers. Pathetic, isn't he?"

"Just a bit," I murmured sympathetically.

Probably trying to cheer Ron up, Harry began telling us how he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago. He told us about having to wear his cousin Dudley's - what cruel person would want to name their child that? - old clothes and never getting a proper birthday present.

I felt so bad for him.

"...and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort - "

Ron gasped.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" Ron exclaimed, sounding both shocked and impressed. I'd have thought you, of all people - "

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," Harry said. "I just never knew you shouldn't See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he trailed off, looking worried. "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be," I insisted calmly. "There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn plenty quick."

While we had been talking, the train had carried us out of London. Now we were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep.

Just then, there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling dimpled woman slid our door back and said, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Ron smiled shyly, held up a bag of mushed sandwiches and said, "No, thanks. I'm all set." He smacked his lips in disappointment.

I didn't really get a chance to consider buying him a little something, because at that moment, Harry took a bunch of galleons out of his pocket and announced, "We'll take the lot!"

"Whoa," Ron and I both said, surprised at how much money this boy carried around.

A few minutes later, we were all sitting together. I had hesitated joining the boys, since we weren't exactly friends, but when Harry said, "Coming, Mira?" as though he was surprised I hadn't, I thought I might've been wrong. Bundles of sweets were spread out between us on the seat. There was Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and much more.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?" Harry asked, holding up a box.

"They mean every flavor," Ron warned. "There's chocolate and pepermint, and there's also spinach and liver and tripe. George swears he got a bogey flavored one once."

"Yeah, but it's kinda fun," I said. I picked up a green bean, looked it over carefully, and bit into a corner. "Bleaaargh. Sprouts."

We had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. I got baked bean, strawberry, grass, and coffee. Harry got toast, coconaut, curry, and sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end of a funny gray one Ron and I wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper.

"These aren't real frogs, are they?" Harry asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs.

"It's only a spell," I assured him.

"Besides it's the cards you want." Ron told him. Each pack's got a famous witch or wizard. I got about five hundred meself."

As Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog, I peeked over his shoulder to see which card he got. I wanted to see his reaction to the moving picture.

The card showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache: Albus Dumbledore.

"Hey, I got Dumbleodre!" Harry exclaimed.

"I got about six of him," Ron replied.

Harry looked back down at the card and, shocked, said, "Hey, he's gone,"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day, can you?" said Ron, as if should have been obvious.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone, now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knowk on the door of our compartment and a round-faced boy came in, looking tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When we all shook our heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"I'm sure he'll turn up," I told the boy.

"Yes," the boy said miserably. "Well, if you see him..." He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

Said rat was still snoozing in Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," Ron said in disgust. "Fred have me a spell to turn him yellow. Want to see?" he asked us.

"Yeah," Harry said eagerly.

I couldn't really see the appeal of a yellow rat, but I said, "Sure,"

Ron rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway. He cleared his throat the began the spell.

"Sun -"

Just as he raised his wand, the compartment door slid open again. This time, a girl was here. She lots of bushy brown hair, rather large front teeth, and was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one." Her voice sounded somewhat bossy.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Ron said, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see then."

Ron looked taken aback, but continued. He cleared his throat again. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers was still gray and fast asleep.

I couldn't help laughing a little.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asked. "Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course, I've only tried a few simple spells myself, and they've all worked for me. For example..." she said, sitting down across from Harry. She pointed her wand directly at his battered glasses and said, "Oculus Reparo." With a snap! sound, Harry's glasses were completely repaired.

My eyes widened and Harry took his glasses off, staring at them in amazement.

"That's better, isn't it?" the girl said. Then, she noticed Harry's scar. "Holy cricket, you're Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?" she asked me and Ron.

"Mira Black, but I prefer Andie," I replied. When she didn't respond at my surname, I knew she was Muggle-born, they were the only ones who didn't know about the Blacks' dark history.

"I'm..." Ron paused to chew, his mouth full of candy. "Ron Weasley," he finished.

"Pleasure," Hermione replied, sounding slightly disgusted. "You three had better change into you robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." she advised, standing up and heading for the compartment door.

As she reached the door, she turned back around and looked at Ron. "You've got dirt on you nose, by the way. Did you know? Just there." she told him pointing.

Ron hurriedly rubbed his nose, embarrassed.

I couldn't help snickering a bit, causing Ron to give me a small glare.

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked Ron, probably hoping to distract him.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. He seemed gloomy once again. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not."

"So, what do your brothers do now that they've left Hogwarts?" I asked Ron, trying to take his mind off houses.

"Charlie's in Romania, studying dragons; and Bill's in Africa, doing something for Gringotts," Ron said. "What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked suddenly, looking to me first, as if daring me to say I didn't like the game.

"Hollyhead Harpies," I responded proudly.

Ron nodded in approval, though I doubted it was his favorite team. Then he looked to Harry, waiting his answer. I didn't think Harry would even know what Quidditch was, being raised ignorant of our world for ten years. And I was right.

"Er - I don't know any," Harry confessed.

"What!?" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world." And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions fo the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money.

I peered out of the window. It was getting dark. I could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train seemed to be slowing down. I told Harry and Ron that we'd be there soon, so we had ought to change.

I left to change, while the boys put their robes in the compartment. I came back in when I was sure they'd be done and saw Ron's were a bit short for him; I could see his sneakers underneath.

A voice echoed throughout the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

My stomach fluttered with nerves.

Ron and Harry crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and then we all joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and I heard a voice calling, "Right then. Firs' years! This way, please! Come on, now, don't be shy! Come on now, hurry up!"

We separated from the others and approached the giant. Harry seemed very casual and then he giant spoke more softly. "Hello, Harry,"

"Hey, Hagird," Harry responded.

My jaw dropped and Ron said, "Whoa,"

"Right then. This way to the boats! Come on, now, follow me." Hagrid called.

Slipping and stumbling we followed him down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. Nobody spoke much.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder. "Jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrents and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat! Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Ron, and I were followed into a boat by Neville, the boy who had lost his toad.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was a smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over us as we sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled as the first boats reached the cliff; we all bent our heads and the boats carried us through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. We were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking us right underneath the castle, until we reached a kind of underground harbor, where we clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Then we clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

We walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

This was it.


	5. Sorting

The door swung open at once. A tall black-haired witch in emerald green robes stood before us. She had a very stern face and right away I knew you would not want to make her mad.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door open wide. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too highs to make out and a magnificent marble facing led to the upper floors.

We followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. I could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – all the other students must already be here. But Professor McGonagall showed us into a small, empty chamber off the hall. We all crowded in, standing rather close together for a bunch of strangers.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "Now, in a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your Houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Now, while you are here, your House will be like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory and spend free time in your House common room. Your triumphs will earn you House points. Any rulebreaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup.

"The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily," Professor McGonagall continued. "I shall return when we are ready for you." She left the chamber.

At that moment, everyone broke into conversation.

"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" Harry asked nervously.

"Some sort of test, I think," Ron told him. "Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking,"

"Of course he was joking," I said. "All you've got to do is put on the Sorting Hat. It reads your mind or something and shouts out your House."

"So we've just got to try on a hat?" Ron whispered to me in astonishment.

I nodded reassuringly.

"I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll," Ron sighed.

I may have been acting brave, but inside I was a nervous wreck. I didn't have a clue what House I'd be sorted into and it was driving me mad. I hated that more than anything – not knowing.

Besides, what would everyone think when my name was called? I hated that too – being judged based on nothing more than my name.

"It's true then. What they were saying on the train." a boy spoke, interrupting my reverie.

I looked in the direction of the voice, along with everyone else, and saw him. He was pale, had slicked back silver blonde hair and ferret-like features. His hair looked like he'd dumped a whole bottle of hair gel onto his head.

"Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts," the boy continued, causing everyone to whisper excitedly.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," the pale boy nodded to two thick boys standing on either side of him. "And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ron didn't even try to hide his snigger.

Draco Malfoy glared at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley."

"Better to be a weasel than a ferret," I muttered.

Malfoy glared at me, but didn't respond. He probably didn't know how to react to being insulted by a girl.

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." he said, glancing pointedly at Ron and me. "I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Malfoy glared at Harry as Professor McGonagall returned. She tapped him on the shoulder with a roll of parchment she was holding. Malfoy retreated with one last glare at the three of us.

"We're ready for you now," Professor McGonagall said. She then led us through two large doors and into the Great Hall.

I'd heard all sorts of stories, mainly from Dora, but I'd never imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles floating in midair over four long tables, where the hundreds of other students were sitting. The tables were laden with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the other end of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.

I glanced upwards and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. Behind me I heard Hermione say, "It's not real, the ceiling. It's bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_." That just impressed me even more.

I looked back down as Professor McGonagall led us up to the High Table where we came to a halt, facing a three-legged stool. On top of the stool sat a pointed wizard's hat. It was frayed and patched, extremely old-looking.

"Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words," Professor McGonagall announced.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see us all here.

"Welcome!" he said cheerily. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce.

"The first years please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students.

"No magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch," He signaled to an old man with red eyes holding a cat. "has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you." he finished.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the Sorting Hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth. And then the hat began to sing.

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head the Sorting Hat can't see._

 _So try me on and I will tell you where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin you'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends_

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none) for I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.

As the Sorting drew nearer, my nerves kept growing.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward, holding her long scroll. "When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head and you shall be sorted into your Houses," she said. "Hannah Abbott!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled up to the stool, put on the hat – which feel over her eyes – and sat down. A moment's pause and then...

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Mira Black!"

 _Why, oh why do they have to go in alphabetical order?_

My stomach was doing flips, but I sucked in a big breathe and somehow managed to make my legs work. I tried to ignore the whispers around me as I approached the stool, but I couldn't block them all out.

"Black?"

"I thought the Blacks had died out."

"Slytherin, for sure."

I sat down and Professor McGonagall put the hat on my head. Then I heard a small voice whispering in my ear.

"Ah, another Black... Hm. Interesting. While you are highly determined, you lack the natural traits of a Slytherin. Very interesting. Reminds me of your father. So where shall I put you? You are courageous... quite a brain, a thirst for knowledge, you'd do well in Ravenclaw... your sense of loyalty is very strong... but I think you'd do as well as your parents in... GRYFFINDOR!"

I heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall.

I really enjoyed the surprise looks on almost everyone's face, except for Harry, Ron and Hermione, of course. The boys were beaming at me, looking quite pleased.

I took the hat off, handed it back to Professor McGonagall and walked over to the Gryffindor table, barely noticing the delayed cheers.

But I wasn't thinking about any of this. The Sorting Hat had given me something to think about: my dad had been in Gryffindor. How was this possible when he had done such terrible things?

I zoned back in as Professor McGonagall shouted, "Susan Bones!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted again. Susan scuttled off and sat next to Hannah.

"Terry Boot!"

"RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

Mandy Brocklehurst went to Ravenclaw too and Lavender Brown became the next Gryffindor.

Millicent Bulstrode then became a Slytherin. Maybe it was just because of all the stories I'd heard about them, but I thought they looked like an unpleasant bunch.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

I noticed that sometimes the hat shouted out the House at once and for some people it took a while to decide. Seamus Finnigan sat on the stool for about a minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Hermione Granger!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted. I could see Ron groan from my seat as Hermione came and sat across from me, smiling widely.

When Neville Longbottom – the boy who kept losing his toad – was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a good long time to decide with Neville. Once it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville ran off still wearing the hat and he had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to Aidan Lovegood, who was declared a Gryffindor.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Ferret Boy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking very pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now.

Moon... Nott... Parkinson... then a pair of twin girls, the Patils... then Sally-Anne Perks... and then finally...

"Harry Potter!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

I crossed my fingers underneath the table and waited.

After a few moments the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The loudest cheer yet broke out at the table. Ron's brothers – twins Fred and George – yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harry came and sat down next to me, smiling hugely.

Now there were only four left to be sorted.

Dean Thomas, a boy a little taller than Ron, joined us at the Gryffindor table and Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw. And then it was Ron's turn.

Harry and I crossed our fingers under the table and a second later the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Everyone clapped loudly as Ron collapsed into the seat next to Harry.

And finally, Blaise Zabini was made a Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "Let the feast begin,"

Then the plates in front of me were now piled wih food. I had never seen so many delicious foods on one table before. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and even peppermint humbugs.

I dug right in, helping myself to a bit of everything. It was delicious.

Ron, having just finished a chicken leg, reached into the bowl for more and a ghostly hed popped out.

"Ahh!" Ron cried.

"Hello!" the ghost said cheerily. "Welcome to Gryffindor."

The ghost floated up through the table and Ron's other brother Percy said, "Hello, Sir Nicholas. Have a nice summer?"

"Dismal. Once again my request to join the Headless Hunt has been denied." Sir Nicholas replied. He began to float away.

"I know who you are!" Ron exclaimed suddenly, stopping the ghost. "You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I prefer Sir Nicholas if you don't mind," she replied stiffly.

"Nearly headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Hermione inquired.

"Like this," Sir Nicholas/Nearly Headless Nick answered as he seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but hadn't managed to do it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on our faces, Nick flipped his head back onto his neck and glided away.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean. A moment later, the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor imaginable, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs, jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, pudding...

As I helped myself to seconds, talk turned to our families.

"I'm half and half," Seamus Finnigan said. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mam's a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out."

That caused everyone to laugh.

"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," Neville said. "But the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Aunt Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On my other side, Percy and Hermione were talking about lessons – "I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult –"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing..."

Then Harry shifted and asked me, "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" He must've seen how I didn't know who Quirrell was because he elaborated, "Quirrell's the one with the turban."

"I don't know," I said, studying Professor Quirrell. He indeed wore a turban – purple – and was a pale young man whose eyes twitched every now and then.

I leaned over to Percy and said, "Percy, who's that man talking to Professor Quirrell?"

"Oh, that's Professor Snape, Head of Slyltherin House," Percy answered.

"What's he teach?" Harry called down to Percy.

"Potions. But everyone knows it's the Dark Arts he fancies. He's been after Quirrell's job for years."

"Why'd you want to know who he is, Harry?" I asked.

"No reason," Harry said quietly.

I wasn't sure if I believed him or not.

At last, the desserts disappeared too and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" he cried.

A few students groaned while some of the teachers' smiles became fored.

Dumbledore gave his wand a small flick and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!" Dumbledore exclaimed.

The school bellowed:

 _"Howarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something please_

 _Whether we be old and bald or young with scabby knees_

 _Our heads could do with filling with some interesting stuff_

 _For now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff_

 _So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot_

 _Just do your best, we'll do the rest and learn until our brains all rot."_

Everyone finished the song at different times. The Weasley twins finished last, singing along to a very slow funeral march.

Dumbledore conducted the last few lines with his wand and when we had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music!" he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase.

"This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Oh, and keep an eye on the staircases. They like to change." Percy said.

A handful of people were quite surprised to find the people in the portraits along the corridors whispering and pointing as we passed or that twice Percy led us through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries.

We climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging feet.

Suddenly, we came to a halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair in front of us. Percy took a step toward the sticks and they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to us. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice and said, "Peeves – show yourself."

A sound like air being let out of a balloon answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said with an evil cackle. "Ickle firsties! What fun!"

Then he swooped at us, causing us all to duck.

"Go away, Peeves or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. I heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed them.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy as we set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. We all scrambled and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room, a round, cozy room full of fluffy armchairs and a roaring fire.

"Gather round here," Percy called as we all crowded around him. "Welcome to the Gryffindor common room. Boys' dormitories are upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right. You'll find that your belongings have already been brought up."

Hermione and I made our way up another spiral staircase and, at last, found our beds: five four-posters hung with scarlet red velvet curtains. Our trunks were sitting at the end of our beds. Besides me and Hermione, there was Lavender Brown, Parvarti Patil and Gwendolyn Moon.

While the other girls started chatting with each other, Hermione and I talked about our families, what we like to do, friends we had back home, where home was, etc. My instincts were usually to keep quiet about my home situation – being a Black means you didn't make friends very easily – but there was something about Hermione. I trust her, almost immediately. So I told her everything: how my father went to prison when I was a baby, only passing on the cursed name of Black (I had to explain to Hermione a bit about their history – not that this changed her opinion of me); how my mum died when I was a baby and I spent several years with distant cousins until my godfather came for me; how I loved Remus and being a part of our dysfunctional little family.

Hermione gave me the basics of her background too: she was the only child of two dentist parents; she'd been so surprised and pleased when she got her Hogwarts letter; her parents were so excited and supportive of her being a witch. She enjoyed school work and was so excited for classes to start.

We just kept talking and somehow fell asleep like that a few hours later.


	6. First Day Drama

Hogwarts was a maze.

I didn't understand how anyone remembered how to get around this school, it seemed impossible. And it didn't help any that whispers followed Harry everywhere.

"There, look,"

"Where?"

"Next to the redhead kid and the blonde girl,"

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

People lined up outside classrooms, standing on their toes to get a better look at him or they even doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, always staring. On more than one occasion I had to tell people to get lost and threaten to hex them.

That didn't deter them, though, which was very annoying because we were having loads of trouble finding the way to our classes.

There were one hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts. Wide, sweeping ones, narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday, some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump over. And then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely or tickled them in just the right spot and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also difficult to remember where anything was, it all seemed to move around. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other and then there was the Grand Staircase which actually did move.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them suddenly glided through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was the equivalent of two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs out from underneath your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk or sneak up behind you – invisible, of course – grab your nose and scream, "GOT OUR CONK!"

Worse than Peeves, if that was even possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry and I had managed to get on his wrong side our very first day.

Filch found us trying to force our way through a door that unfortunately turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He didn't believe we were lost (having gotten separated from Ron), he was sure we were trying to break into it on purpose. He was threatening to lock us in the dungeons and muttering something about "history repeating itself" when we were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

Filch owned a cat named Mrs. Norris; she was a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors by herself. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of the line and she'd whisk off for Filch faster than you could say "Hogwarts". Filch would appear two seconds later, wheezing. Filch also knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except maybe the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him and it was the dearest ambition of many (especially myself) to give Mrs. Norris a good, hard kick.

And then there were the classes themselves, once you managed to find them.

We had to study the night skies through telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets.

Three times a week we went out to the greenhouse behind the castle to study Herbology with Professor Sprout, where we learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and what they were used for.

No question about it, the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only class taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old when he'd fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire. When he got up the next morning to teach, he left his body behind. Binns droned on and on while we struggled to copy down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric and Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of our first class he took roll call and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, which made me chuckle.

Professor McGonagall was different, though. I'd been right to think that she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave us a talking-to the moment we sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. Everyone was very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but it soon became obvious no one was going to be changing furniture into animals quite yet.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, we were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. Not an easy task.

By the end of the lesson, only Hermione had managed to make any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a small smile.

The class everyone was looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled like garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. He told us that his turban had been from an African prince, a thank-you gift for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but I didn't buy the story for one second. For one thing, when Seamus eagerly asked to hear how Quirrell had fought the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started to talk about the weather; and for another, myself and several others had noticed a funny smell hanging around the turban. The Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed with garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Friday I was sitting in the Great Hall, having just finished breakfast and I was finally going to write a letter to Remus. I'd gone down with Hermione that morning, since she seemed to know her way around pretty well already. Hermione and I had become good friends, though she and Harry and Ron didn't get along. So I split my time between her and the boys, when I wasn't doing schoolwork, that is.

A few minutes later, Harry and Ron came into the Great Hall and sat down by me. I thought about making a smart comment about them finally managing to not get lost, but bit my tongue to keep the words in. I didn't want to lose my new friends so quickly.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. The disappointment in his voice was crystal clear. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"If only McGonagall favored us," I said wistfully. Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, but that didn't stop her from giving us a huge pile of homework yesterday.

Suddenly, I could hear the distinct sound of flapping wings. I looked upwards, not surprised to see about a hundred owls stream into the Great Hall, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropped letters and packages onto their laps. The mail was here.

Orion swooped down and dropped a letter next to my plate. I recognized the writing on front as Dora's. I slipped the letter into my bag; I'd read it after I finally wrote out my letter to Remus.

Before going back to my letter, I looked up at Harry. I felt bad for him; he hadn't gotten anything yet from his owl, Hedwig. But apparently, that was no longer the case. The snow white owl was fluttering down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Harry's plate.

With a smile on my face, I turned my attention back to my letter.

 _Dear Remus,_

 _How are you? Though it's only been a week, I miss you already._

 _Sorry it took me a week to write, but I've been trying to get my bearings and it hasn't been easy._

 _Hogwarts is amazing! It's a bit confusing, there really should be some sort of map to help me get around, but I'm managing._

 _I've made some friends already. Hermione Granger is an incredibly smart girl and the only one in my dormitory I like talking with. Even when I told her about my family history, she didn't judge me, it was very refreshing. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to get along with my other friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter (yeah,_ that _Harry Potter). One day I'll push them all together though, just you wait and see._

 _Classes are alright. So far I like Charms and Transfiguration (though I'm not very good at that one) and Herbology's not too bad. We have Potions today, so I'll tell you how that goes in my next letter._

 _I'll write again soon, please don't worry about me so much - I know you do. I'm really doing well here. I like to think Mum would have been proud of me._

 _Love from Mira_

 _P.S I was sorted into Gryffindor!_

 _P.P.S. I found out from the Sorting Hat that my father was a Gryffindor also. How is that possible? I was sure he was a bad guy. You don't need to answer if it makes you uncomfortable._

When I'd tied my letter to Orion's leg and sent him off, Harry told me and Ron that Hagrid had invited him to tea that afternoon – we got Friday afternoons off – and offered to being us with, and of course we hastily agreed.

It was a good thing we had tea with Hagrid to look forward to because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing ever, so far at least.

Harry told me and Ron that at the start-of-term feast, he'd gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. I was sure he'd been mistaken, but by the end of Potions, I realized I was dead wrong.

Potions took place down in one in one of the dungeons. It was colder here an up in the main castle and would have been creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking roll. Unlike Flitwick, though, he paused at my name for some reason and he gave me a look I could only classify as a glare. Then he continued on, until he got to Harry's name and then he paused again. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new celebrity."

I could hear Malfoy and his friends sniggering behind their hands.

Snape finished calling the names and looked up at everyone. His eyes were black, cold, empty, and reminded me of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but I (and probably everyone else) caught every single word. Just like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. Most likely no one wanted to risk upsetting him; I, personally, didn't want to see what that looked like. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron, its simmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper to death... if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

A few moments of silence followed this little speech. Harry, Ron and I exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione, though, was on the edge of her seat, looking desperate. She was probably anxious to prove she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of aspho-what to a what? Who decided to teach this to a bunch of elven-year-olds? Hermione's hand was the first, and only, hand in the air.

Harry looked at me and Ron, looking for some help, but clearly Ron was as clueless as me.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry, causing Snape's lips to curl into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything." Snape said, ignoring Hermione's hand. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand even higher into the air, if that's even possible.

Harry still had a blank look on his face. Not that I could blame him. Was this stuff even in our books?

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Malfoy and his goons shaking with laughter. Like they actually knew the answers to these questions.

"I don't know sir." Harry answered.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?'

Was this guy serious?! Did he really expect us to memorize every word of every page of our books? Who could do that? Besides Hermione, that is.

"Black!" Snape shouted. "What is the difference between monkswood and wolfbane?"

Really? This slimy git was gonna pick on me now? What?!

I took a deep breath and tried to keep the tone of my voice under control. "I really don't have a clue. I think Hermione just might, though. Why don't you try asking her?"

There was a small rustle of laughter throughout the room.

Snape, obviously, was not amused by my answer.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkswood and wolfbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Almost immediately, there was a rustling for quills and parchment. Over the noise Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Black."

I sighed. Why did I always have to go putting my foot in my mouth?

Things only got worse for Gryffindor as the class continued. Snape paired us all off and set us to mixing a simple potion for curing boils. He swept away in his long black cloak, watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing practically everyone except Malfoy, who he actually seemed to like. He was telling us all to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when a cloud of acidic green smoke and a hissing sound filled the dungeon.

Somehow, Neville had managed to melt his and Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was slowly seeping across the stone floor, burning holes into people's shoes. Within seconds the whole class was standing on top of stools while Neville – having been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed – moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Not pretty.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled as he cleared the spilled potion with a wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as his boils started to pop all over his nose.

"Take him up the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who'd been working next to Neville and Seamus. "You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add to quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point from Gryffdindor."

Merlin, this had to be considered child abuse.

Harry opened his mouth – probably to argue – but luckily Ron kicked him behind their cauldron. "Don't push it," he whispered. "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

Nastier than this? Is that even possible?

As the three of us climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, I looked over to Harry. He looked utterly miserable. "Don't let him get to you," I told him.

"Yeah, cheer up," Ron said. "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George."

That didn't seem to perk Harry up very much.

At three to five, we left the castle and made our way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

When Harry knocked on the door, I heard a frantic scrambling sound from the inside and several booming barks Then Hagrid's voice rang out. "Back, Fang – back."

Hagrid's large, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open. "Hang on," he told us. "Back, Fang."

He let us in, while struggling to keep a hold of the collar on an enormous boarhound.

The house had just one room. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling over the open fire and in the corner was a massive bed with a patchwork quilt lying on it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and began licking his ears. It seemed, like Hagrid, Fang wasn't nearly as fierce as he appeared.

"This is Ron Weasley and Mira Black," Harry introduced us to Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and placing rock cakes on a plate.

Something flashed in Hagrid's eyes when he looked at me, but before I could figure out what it was, it'd disappeared.

"Nice ter meet you, Mira," Hagrid said. I smiled and gave him a nod in response. I figured his strange look must have been just a reaction to my last name. I wasn't too concerned with it; I'd had much worse.

Hagrid turned to Ron. "Another Weasley, eh?" he said, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers way from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins capable of breaking teeth. Harry, Ron and I pretended to enjoy them, though, as we told Hagrid all about our first day of lessons.

Fang was resting his head on Harry's knee and drooling all over his robes. I usually loved dogs, but I was perfectly fine with Fang showing his affection for others.

I was delighted to hear Hagrid call Finch and "old git." No wonder Harry was friends with this man.

"An as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it."

Harry started to tell Hagrid what happened with Snape today – with me throwing in my two cents every now and then. Hagrid told Harry not to worry, Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me," Harry said.

"And he didn't seem too fond of me, either," I added.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he hate either of ya?"

Once again I noticed something odd about the way Hagrid was looking at us – or not looking at us, rather.

"How's yer brother, Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot – great with animals."

I was only partially paying attention and then I stopped completely when I saw Harry holding a small scrap of paper. I leaned over his shoulder to get a better look.

 **GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

Investigators continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep our noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Strange. Gringotts was practically impossible to break into. They had multiple protective enchantments and it was rumored that dragons guarded top priority vaults.

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed. "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

Hagrid didn't meet Harry's eyes, just grunted and offered him another rock cake.

That sounded like too much of a coincidence to me.

One thing was for sure: something strange was happening and I intended to figure out what it was. I never could resist a mystery.


End file.
